One of the most important kinds of w ork that linguists do is language documentation and preservation. This work is important because of the alarming fact that, of the approximately spoken and signed 7000 current languages on Earth, 90 percent of them risk disappearing within the next century. A linguist’s training allows them to assist native speakers of those languages in creating dictionaries and grammar descriptions of those languages so that, if they do disappear, there is some record. I have had the great good fortune of working with one of the last speakers of Oroha, spoken in the Solomon Islands, which now has fewer than 30 speakers left.
While many speakers of endangered languages are bilingual (in the case of Oroha, the language consultants were fluent in both Standard English and Solomon Islands Pidgin), the most careful work in this area is always monolingual, with the linguist learning to speak the language she is trying to preserve. Asking for translations can yield incomplete or even inaccurate information. For example, Oroha has many words for specific varieties of yam found on the island, so asking, in English, “What’s your word for ‘yam’?” would miss important information.
Before the linguist becomes fluent, though, there is usually a great deal of gesture and nonverbal communication between the linguist and speaker.
HOW WOULD A BLIND LINGUIST DEAL WITH THIS?
Every year in my introduction to linguistics classes, our midterm exam consists of a monolingual field methods demonstration. I recruit a speaker of a language I do not know, and with the class taking (sometimes frantic) notes, the speaker and I work for 20 minutes as I learn some core vocabulary and as much basic grammar as I can. It’s a great way to reinforce the concepts of phonetic transcription, word construction, and syntax that we have been studying. Doing this over and over every year has allowed me to settle on some best practices for a blind person doing initial fieldwork in a new language. Here is some of what I have learned.
BEING SPECIFIC ABOUT TOUCH
Because rules about physical touch can be a source of cultural misunderstanding, I am very clear, in advance (and with the help of a fluent speaker), that I respectfully request that we work together to negotiate how we will work through those rules. When practical, I ask to work with a female language consultant. Instead of pointing at objects, I place objects in the consultant’s hands when asking about them. She takes things from me, and when we get to the point of miming actions, she will sometimes touch me to correct what I am doing. I ask her to say “yes” or “no” aloud (in her language, of course) rather than giving nonverbal responses. As we work together more, the interaction reminds me somewhat of communication with my children when they were very little, treating touch as a natural way of indicating shared attention and as a substitute for other kinds of nonverbal communication. If we work together more than once, I remind us both that we have agreed to these adjustments and thank her for her willingness to work in this way.
CHOOSING AND PREPARING MATERIALS
I spend time in advance preparing the sets of objects we will use. Rather than using pictures or relying on the ability to spontaneously point to objects in the room, I provide a set of materials to use, such as several rocks of different sizes (but all the same color) and similar sets of sticks, dolls, and other objects we can manipulate together. I also meticulously explore our working space in advance so I will know exactly what is around me if, for example, I need to change plans and use a chair or move around the space. Once again, my experiences with preverbal children turn out to be useful. If I know what is in the room with us, I can more readily interpret unexpected things she might decide to do.
CHOOSING WHAT TO ASK
Color words are typically one of the early topics in linguistic fieldwork. However, I postponed this because there are so many ways it could go wrong for me. I also postpone eliciting words for things we cannot mutually touch, such as a distant mountain or the top of a tall tree. We get to these topics eventually, but in the meantime, we are doing useful work. This approach has never caused much trouble. I honestly feel that because my consultant and I have entered what can feel like a quietly shared harmless collusion, breaking a few social rules together, we build trust more quickly than more traditional pairs of linguists and language consultants, and our interactions are lively and often amusing for both of us and for the students watching.
